


In Our Bedroom After the War

by hollycomb



Category: Terminator Salvation (2009)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-02
Updated: 2012-10-02
Packaged: 2017-11-15 11:16:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/526695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollycomb/pseuds/hollycomb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor dies, but the attack on Skynet Headquarters was far more significant than anyone hoped. Kyle has to learn how to live a semi-normal life, and only a Terminator is willing to teach him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Our Bedroom After the War

Marcus is the only one who tells Kyle anything. Not that Marcus really knows a lot about what's going on. He sits at the kids' table with Kyle and Star and Blair, who was forgiven by Connor but demoted to untrustworthy again after he died. Kyle was there when that happened, standing in a tent in the desert about ten miles from the camp. Connor's wife had turned to the still-breathless audience of escapees from Skynet Central and announced that Connor needed a heart transplant like she actually thought it was maybe going to happen, that suddenly there would be a heart and the tools she needed to slip it lovingly into her husband's body. No such luck. Kyle cried while he watched Kate say goodbye to Connor, whose last words were 'you've earned it,' in reference to the Resistance jacket he gave to Kyle. Kate and Connor didn't speak to each other as Connor died, just held each other's gaze until Connor's eyes fell shut. Kyle had turned to Marcus, wanting to hide his wet face against Marcus' chest, but Blair beat him to it, so Kyle just hugged Star, who joined Marcus in not crying. Kyle suspects that Star has seen worse, a variety of less dignified deaths, and as for Marcus, Kyle isn't even sure that he can cry.

He wonders about these things pretty often. Can Marcus cry? Does he need to eat and sleep, or does he only do it out of habit, or to make everyone less nervous about what he is? Can he get headaches? Does his cock get hard? For a while Kyle worried over whether Marcus even has a cock, but he did some investigating and has been able to glimpse its outline through Marcus' pants. Marcus almost always adjusts it after he gets out of his bunk in the mornings.

Kyle spends a lot of time staring at Marcus and trying to work up the nerve to ask questions about what it's like to only be partially human. Marcus gives Kyle irritable looks but doesn't tell him to get lost. There's not a lot to do in the weeks following Connor's death, at least not anything the vague new leadership trusts Kyle or Marcus to do. They look after Star, but without machines constantly stalking them there really isn't much to it aside from making sure that she eats.

"Who do you think will take over?" Kyle asks Marcus when the third week without Connor begins and no one has issued any edicts.

"I don't know," Marcus says. "Not me."

They're sitting at the edge of the hangar where the planes and helicopters are lodged. It's Marcus' favorite place in the base, and he usually sits with his back to the wall near the entrance, staring out at the motionless desert sky. Kyle sits beside him, and Star goofs around with whatever scraps she can find for toys, building little sculptures or obstacle courses for herself.

"I think it'll be Kate," Kyle says. He checks Marcus' face for a reaction, but Marcus is just staring out at the sky, impassive, like always. "After she has the baby, you know? I heard she's on bed rest. Blair said she had a scare after Connor died, false labor, from the stress."

"Jesus. You'd think Connor would have had the decency not to knock her up."

"What do you mean?"

"Knock her up, you know." Marcus motions around his stomach to suggest a bulge. "Get her pregnant."

"Oh." Kyle blushes. He looks over at Star, who is skipping around near the edge of the hangar. "But they were -- married. They were in love."

Marcus laughs and turns to grin at Kyle, who smiles back, though he's not sure what's funny. He always feels like he's won a world championship if he can get Marcus to smile.

"Sure," Marcus says. "But you can't tell me that a guy who can get his hands on a jet fighter and a friggin' helicopter can't find himself some condoms."

"Some what?"

"Condoms." Marcus raises his eyebrows. "You don't know what condoms are?"

"No."

Marcus hums as if he disapproves and Kyle feels stupid. They both look over at Star, who is a good twenty feet away now, walking along the red stripe at the end of the hangar like it's a balance beam, holding her arms out.

"So what are they?" Kyle asks.

"Don't you know about sex?" Marcus asks, his voice dropping lower. Kyle fidgets.

"Yeah," he says, lying. All he really knows is that a man and a woman do it in order to make babies. Cocks are involved somehow. And breasts.

Marcus raises his eyebrows doubtfully. He seems amused.

"Well, a condom is the thing a guy puts on to keep from getting a woman pregnant," Marcus says.

"Puts on where?" Kyle asks, before he can think better of it. Marcus laughs again. Kyle huffs and looks away, embarrassed.

"Fine, forget it, I don't care," Kyle mutters.

"No, no, listen." Marcus reaches over and slings an arm around Kyle's shoulders, and Kyle forgives him instantly. He scoots against Marcus, tucking his knees against Marcus' side. Kyle is obsessed with the idea of that metal skeleton under Marcus' skin, which smells and looks and feels so human, damp with sweat under Marcus' thin t-shirt. Kyle likes it when Marcus touches him. A lot. He thinks of it as a scientific curiosity.

"How old were you when your dad, uh?" Marcus asks. He gives Kyle's shoulder a little rub to apologize for the question.

"I was eight," Kyle says. He looks down at his dirty fingernails. He's been wondering, lately, what his father would have thought of Marcus. His father always said the machines couldn't feel, didn't have hopes or dreams or integrity, and that this would ultimately prove to be their greatest weakness. Kyle wonders all the time if Marcus can feel, and what he felt for Kyle and Star when he came after them, when he saved them.

"So he didn't tell you --?"

"Well, I asked him how the machines make each other, and he told me, and I asked him how humans make each other, and he looked kind of like he didn't want to tell me, but he said that men and women who are married make babies together, and I asked how, and he said 'the equipment for that's between your legs, but you don't need to worry about that yet,' and then he seemed kind of mad and changed the subject."

Kyle looks up at Marcus, his cheeks blazing red. Marcus seems kind of sad for a moment, then he smiles. He takes his arm from Kyle's shoulders and looks out at the sky again. Kyle scoots a little closer, wanting Marcus' attention back.

"So where does the condom go?" Kyle asks, whispering. Marcus turns back at him with surprise, and Kyle waits for him to crack up, but he still just looks kind of wistful and sympathetic.

"On your dick, man," Marcus says, mumbling. He checks the position of Star, but she's still too far away to hear. "You know -- what that is, right?"

Kyle glares at him. "Yeah, of course."

"So the condom is just--" Marcus groans as if he can't believe he's having this conversation. "It's just this little rubber thing that the guy puts on to trap his -- you know. Semen."

Kyle blushes deeply and chews his lips, trying to decide if he should tell Marcus that he doesn't know what semen is. He's starting to get a little bit aroused by this discussion, despite his humiliation.

"You've -- beat off, right?" Marcus asks. He's blushing now, too, and Kyle wants to lick his cheeks, to see how authentic his hot skin tastes. For scientific purposes. He brings his knees up closer to his chest to hide his erection.

"What does that mean?" Kyle asks. Marcus sighs and tips his head back against the wall, closing his eyes for a moment.

"I can't believe I brought this up," he says. "What the fuck. You should -- you're too -- but then -- who else is going to explain it to you?" He looks at Kyle as if Kyle is bleeding to death or something, suffering.

"Just tell me," Kyle whispers. He glances at Star. She's totally absorbed in whatever the fuck she's doing, God bless her.

"Okay, well." Marcus sits up a little straighter, pulling away from Kyle, who huddles against the wall, hunching around his erection.

"You know what it means to -- get hard, right?" Marcus asks. Kyle nods, chewing his bottom lip. Marcus stares at Kyle's mouth for a moment, then swallows heavily.

"And you've -- uh -- finished the job, right?" Marcus says.

"What job?"

"The -- well, you've made it so that you're not hard anymore? You know?"

Kyle shrugs. He used to wake up hard all the time, but he trained himself not to, because the going-away part kind of hurt.

"Like -- rubbing -- until it feels good -- and then you're done?" Marcus says.

"What do you mean, done?" Kyle used to rub himself on his bed when he woke up hard, trying to keep very quiet, embarrassed and confused and sort of upset by what he was doing, but then he'd always make himself stop when the feeling got scarily intense. He didn't want to hurt himself.

"Like, white stuff comes out?" Marcus says, his teeth gritted as if Kyle is starting to annoy him. Kyle's eyes widen and Marcus looks like he feels guilty for scaring him.

"You can't tell me -- you've never." Marcus narrows his eyes. "You never even woken up with -- wet sheets?"

"No!" Kyle says, scowling. That's a lie. He used to wet the bed all the time, and then it started up again after his dad died, but it's been a couple of years since he last woke up cold and wet.

"That's, like, impossible, man. How old are you?"

"Seventeen." He's actually not seventeen for another couple of months, but he's close enough.

"And you've never--?" Marcus scratches at the back of his head, narrowing his eyes. "Maybe it's 'cause you're malnourished or something." He sighs. "Poor kid."

"Why am I poor?" Kyle asks, feeling insulted. "I don't want -- wet sheets."

"Yeah, but -- coming -- that's what it's called, uh. Feels really good."

Kyle's cock throbs between his legs like it at least knows exactly what Marcus is talking about. He squeezes his thighs around it more tightly, wishing he'd never started asking questions. Marcus looks uncomfortable. Kyle knows his hard cock is going to hurt when he stands up, and walking back to the bunks while it takes its sweet time going away won't be fun.

"So, listen, in your bed at night, sometime when there's nobody around -- or when everyone's been asleep for awhile -- you should, you know, if you want to try it, and I think you should, I mean, it's not healthy to just -- ignore that -- need -- but, um." Marcus clears his throat and ducks his eyes away from Kyle's. "You know, you just keep rubbing it until it feels like -- really full and good, and then just, sort of let it happen."

"Let what happen?" Kyle is on the verge of tears. He wants this conversation to end, but he also wants to straddle Marcus and rub his cock crazily against Marcus' chest.

"You'll see." Marcus stands up with a grunt. "You'll figure it out. Just try to keep quiet, you know? It sucks that you don't have any privacy. I guess you never really have." He offers Kyle a hand, but Kyle just curls in on himself, not wanting Marcus to see his erection.

"What's wrong?" Marcus asks, squatting back down again. Kyle moans and hides his face against his arms, which are folded over his knees.

"Oh, hey." Marcus touches Kyle's elbow, then takes his hand away quickly. "Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to -- aw, fuck."

"It's okay," Kyle says, mumbling. "Just take Star back to the bunks. I'll be there in a sec."

Marcus groans. "Look," he says. "I know I embarrassed you, or -- disturbed you, shit, and I'm sorry, but you also know that I don't like leaving you alone, okay, so come back to the bunks with us and --"

"I'll be fine!" Kyle glares at Marcus, then wants to take it back. Marcus looks so distraught, as if he thinks he's hurt Kyle badly. "I mean it," Kyle says, sniffling. "Please. Just leave me alone for a sec, I'll be alright."

"Kyle -- these men -- especially now that Connor is dead -- you shouldn't be alone."

"Why not?" Kyle asks. He wipes at his eyes. Marcus curses and looks at Star. She's still a good distance away but she's watching Marcus and Kyle now, aware that something is wrong.

"Because men and women aren't the only ones who -- do things to each other, okay?" Marcus says.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about -- you, and you're -- very nice-looking, okay, and if this was prison, and I don't really think it's that different no matter how well-intentioned these fucks are -- uh." Marcus chews his lip and Kyle suppresses a smile. Marcus is nervous. He thinks Kyle is nice-looking.

"Okay, I'll just be honest, then!" Kyle says, still not sure what Marcus is talking about. "I -- when you were talking about that stuff -- I was. Affected."

"What stuff?" Marcus looks confused for a few seconds, then takes in Kyle's posture and his trembling lip. He sighs. "Oh," he says. "I see."

"Yeah. So." Kyle shrugs. "I can't get up." He withholds It hurts because he doesn't want to sound like a baby. But it does hurt, worse than any of the ones he can remember, almost like a full bladder, something he needs to empty, the tight squeeze of his thighs around it only making it worse.

Marcus seems to be deliberating how to handle this as footsteps echo from the other end of the hangar. Kyle curses and Marcus does, too, glaring at the intruder as if he'll kick the guy's ass if he tries to come anywhere near. Star jogs over toward Kyle and Marcus, sensing trouble, but the person who rounds the far side of the jet fighter is just Blair, grinning and waving to them. Marcus lets out a sigh of relief and Kyle groans. Fucking Blair. She's always hanging around, interrupting Kyle's talks with Marcus. She's nice enough, but kind of annoying, and she touches Marcus like it's her right.

"Hey, guys," she says, cheerful as usual. "What's wrong?" she asks when she sees Kyle hunched over and pouting.

"C'mere for a second," Marcus says, taking Blair's arm and pulling her away. Kyle feels like he's been slapped.

"Marcus!" he cries, his eyes stinging again. "Don't tell her!"

"I'm not!" Marcus gives Kyle a disbelieving look and drags a very confused Blair away. Star stands halfway between the two of them and Kyle, looking lost. Kyle moans unhappily as he watches Marcus talk to Blair. Marcus points to Star and Blair nods.

"Hey, honey?" Blair calls. Star turns to her and smiles. She's been a fan of Blair ever since she saw Blair cold clock a guy who insulted her last week.

"C'mere, babe," Blair says to Star. "We're gonna go get something to eat. These two have some -- work to finish up. C'mon."

Star looks at Kyle, who nods.

"Go on," he says. "I'm okay."

Star gives him a doubtful look, quirks her mouth and then runs to Blair, who takes her hand. Blair smiles at Kyle sympathetically, which annoys him. He hides his hot cheeks and sighs, listening to the sound of Blair and Star's receding footsteps. Marcus comes over to stand beside him, not very close.

"You go ahead and take care of that if you want to," Marcus says, speaking quietly. "I'll stand guard at the door over there."

Kyle sobs. He doesn't like this. It's weird. He doesn't want Marcus to leave him alone. And what of these bad men who might hurt him because he's nice-looking? What have they got against nice-looking boys?

"Shit, kid, I don't know what to tell you!" Suddenly Marcus is angry. Kyle looks up at him and blinks through his tears. "If you want to just -- ignore it, fine. We'll walk back to the bunks together. If you want me to leave you alone until you figure out how to get rid of it -- well, frankly I think that would be preferable, but I'm not gonna force you."

"Marcus," Kyle cries, feeling babyish and stupid and incredibly aroused by Marcus' suggestion that he should touch himself.

"What?" Marcus asks, his voice softening. "What, Kyle, what do you want me to do?"

"Come here," Kyle says. He sniffles and wipes his face. Marcus just stands there, his mouth hanging open.

"Why?" Marcus asks, like he thinks maybe Kyle is going to attack him or something.

"Just come here!" Kyle says, glaring at him. This approach works better than wibbling. Marcus sighs and walks over to Kyle, kneeling down beside him. Kyle lets out a choppy breath and reaches for Marcus' hand, the one that was once burned away to the metal skeleton below. The skin has regenerated, and Kyle wants to feel it on his own skin, so he brings Marcus' palm up to his cheek, pressing Marcus' hand there until he cups Kyle's face.

"Kid," Marcus says, sighing. "What in the hell."

"Please," Kyle whispers. He's shaking now. The sun is getting low in the sky outside and he feels kind of wild, out of control, but Marcus is here and Marcus always looks out for him, takes care of him.

"Please what?" Marcus strokes Kyle's cheek with his thumb, just once, and Kyle groans, his legs opening a little.

"Please," Kyle says again, pulling Marcus down to him. Marcus arranges himself around Kyle awkwardly, like Kyle is made of toxic material and Marcus is afraid to get any on him. Kyle sobs and clambers onto Marcus, feeling crazy. Marcus lets Kyle straddle his lap and cling to him, but he's not touching Kyle, and, oh, Kyle needs Marcus to touch him, he's going to explode if he doesn't.

"Kyle -- what --"

"Show me, show me what you were talking about," Kyle says. He leans back and looks up into Marcus' eyes shyly. He would never have been bold enough to try anything like this if Marcus hadn't called him nice-looking, and if he hadn't seemed like he felt kind of guilty for thinking so. Marcus is looking at Kyle like he's afraid, but when Kyle takes Marcus' hands and brings them to his waist, Marcus' fingers tighten around Kyle's sides.

"Show me," Kyle whispers, rubbing his erection against the flat of Marcus' stomach, his head spinning with nerves and need. "Please."

"I can't," Marcus says. He's breathing a little harder now, still looking wounded. "You're so -- Jesus, I can't --"

"Please, please!" Kyle cries and unbuttons his pants, his thighs shaking around Marcus' waist. Marcus' grip on him is still strong and firm, his hands sliding down to Kyle's hips, and they both watch with their mouths hanging open as Kyle reaches into his underwear to touch his hard cock. He groans and wraps his hand around it to pull it out, but Marcus takes hold of Kyle's wrist, keeping it in place.

"You do it, Kyle," Marcus says. His voice is trembling. So he does feel things -- nervousness, embarrassment, pity. Desire, maybe, his pupils fattening as he stares into Kyle's hooded eyes.

"Move your hand on it," Marcus whispers, tugging at Kyle's wrist. "That's right. That's good. Get your fingers nice and tight around it."

Kyle is moaning and panting as he pulls on his dick, his whole body burning with shame and want. He wants to lick Marcus' mouth, wants Marcus' hand on his dick, wants -- what, what? To lie underneath Marcus, naked, and have Marcus rub his whole body down onto Kyle's, and maybe Kyle would spread his legs apart, open them wide so he could feel Marcus grinding hard on his dick --

"Marcus!" he cries in a panicked whisper when his nerves all seem to tense up at once, a prickly feeling building his balls, his dick throbbing with fullness in his hand.

"It's okay," Marcus whispers. He rubs Kyle's back with one hand and holds his face with the other, giving Kyle a dry, tiny kiss on his lips. "It's alright, keep going, let it come."

Kyle pumps his dick hard in his fist, pinching his eyes shut and taking a deep breath full of the smell of Marcus' skin. The sharp feeling in his balls grows and grows until it explodes, making Kyle shout and jerk as white-hot, blinding pleasure courses through him. Marcus holds Kyle steady as Kyle's cock jumps and throbs in his hand, filling his underwear with a hot, sticky mess, Kyle gasping and shaking, helpless in Marcus' hands. He slumps against Marcus when his dick finally stops spurting, Marcus' arms wrapping around him, hugging him in close. Kyle pulls his hand from his underwear as soft tremors move through his body, making him feel tired and sated, and so, so good. Marcus is breathing deeply, his neck warm and sweaty when Kyle presses his face against it.

"Good, that was good," Marcus says. He sounds kind of broken up, but he's rubbing Kyle's back like everything is fine. "Just relax, shhh. It's okay."

Kyle can't stop crying, though it's soft and almost feels good, releasing everything that has built up inside him for so long, too long. He relaxes completely against Marcus, feeling as if he's melted, like he'll never get his bones back. He doesn't much care at the moment. Marcus is holding him and he smells so good, feels so solid against Kyle's exhausted body. Exhausted from sex. Which he totally just did. And Marcus watched. Kyle sighs and sits back a bit, giving Marcus a sheepish smile. Marcus smiles back.

"You think I'm nice-looking?" Kyle whispers. Marcus snorts.

"I can't even believe you're real," he says. "Especially in this place."

Kyle wants to kiss Marcus, but his hand is sticky and messy and it's bugging him. He looks down at it woefully.

"Here," Marcus says. He reaches into the back pocket of his jeans and comes up with the cloth Kyle has seen him use to mop the sweat from his face when he's working on one of the engines that the people on the base make him repair, never thanking him and certainly not asking nicely, more like ordering. Marcus uses the cloth to wipe Kyle's hand clean, or mostly clean. Kyle can still feel cold stickiness in his underwear, and he shifts around, gasping when he feels something hard against the crack of his ass. He looks down, and then up again, his eyes wide. Marcus laughs.

"Yeah, I'm hard," he says. "It's alright. Don't worry about it. One lesson at a time."

"Does it hurt?" Kyle asks, his heart pounding. "Sometimes, mine -- they would hurt. I didn't know -- that trick to make them stop hurting."

"No, it doesn't hurt," Marcus says. "C'mere." He pulls Kyle to him again and holds him against his chest. Kyle feels like he could fall asleep like this, cuddled against Marcus while the sun goes down outside, making the cockpit of the jet fighter glow with bright orange light.

"Marcus," he says, sighing the name out and reaching up to feel for the stubble on Marcus' jaw. "That felt so good."

"Told you so," Marcus says. He sneaks one hand up under Kyle's t-shirt and rubs soft fingers over his skin, making Kyle moan and squirm closer.

"What about the part where you do it with a girl and wear the condom?" Kyle asks, feeling a little panicked at the thought. "I don't have to do that, right? Because there aren't any girls my age?"

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to," Marcus says. He takes his hand out from Kyle's shirt and scratches his fingers through Kyle's hair. "But you might change your mind about girls -- if one comes along."

"Do you do this stuff with Blair?" Kyle asks, sitting up to pout at Marcus, who laughs.

"No," he says.

"Do you want to?"

Marcus shakes his head. "And it's funny, I was kind of worried," he says. "She would get all up on me and I wouldn't get hard. I thought my dick was broken or something. Looks like it's working alright, though."

"I made it work," Kyle says, smiling and putting his head on Marcus' shoulder again. Marcus laughs, and it feels good, like a little earthquake under Kyle's body. He feels like he could get hard again.

"We should get going," Marcus says. "Someone could come in."

"No one's going to come in," Kyle says, though his heart beats a little faster at the thought. "And I -- I." He sits back and looks at Marcus. "I want to see you do yours."

Marcus laughs a little. He seems like he's going to say something for a moment, then just leans forward with a low growl and kisses Kyle, softly at first, laughing against Kyle's lips as Kyle tries to deepen the kiss. Kyle licks at Marcus desperately, moaning, and he's definitely getting hard again now, rubbing himself against Marcus' stomach.

"Calm down," Marcus says, pulling back. He glances over Kyle's shoulder, but the hangar is still empty. "Let me teach you this, too, okay?"

Kyle nods, and he's rock hard by the end of his lesson, shivering every time the tip of Marcus' tongue slides against the tip of his. He reaches down to unbutton Marcus' jeans, and Marcus laughs, pushing Kyle's hands away to do it himself.

"Here," Marcus says as he spreads his legs, Kyle sitting between them now. "Just tell me if you change your mind. It can be kind of -- scary. Seeing someone else's dick. Jesus, I can't believe I'm doing this." Marcus pushes his underwear down and pulls his hard cock up through the open fly of his jeans. Kyle has to swallow a gasp. It is kind of scary, but he can't stop looking and definitely doesn't want Marcus to put it away.

"That's big," Kyle says, the words just falling out of his lips as he grasps the crotch of his own pants and squeezes. Marcus sniffs out a laugh and strokes his hand up and down his thick cock as Kyle watches. Kyle's mouth waters, and he begins squeezing and rubbing at himself more vigorously.

"You really want to watch this shit?" Marcus says, folding one arm behind his head as he strokes himself with the other.

"Uh-huh," Kyle moans, practically drooling. He smirks. "You liked watching me."

"Fair enough."

Kyle opens his pants and sticks his hand into his underwear again as he watches Marcus fist his cock, pulling it so hard that his skin seems to move with his hand. Kyle tries this technique on himself and gasps.

"Go lower," Marcus instructs, his breath shallow now. He reaches beneath his own cock to demonstrate, pushing his underwear down to reveal a pair of big, firm balls that he fondles with a groan. Kyle whimpers and spreads his legs wider, almost wishing he could tear his pants off completely. He reaches down and brushes his balls with shaking fingers, then takes hold of them properly, rolling them around in his palm, imitating Marcus.

"That's good," Marcus says, and then he grunts and grabs his cock, pumping it again, harder now, faster. "That's good, Kyle, yeah, keep going, that f-feels good, doesn't it? Oh, shit."

Kyle wants to watch Marcus come, wants to stare and admire the way his hips twitch and his big cock covers his t-shirt with white streaks, but he can't watch for long without coming himself, and he shouts and pitches forward, still not used to the feeling, which is a bit like falling down a flight of stairs and liking it. He braces himself against the floor with one hand while he works every drop of his release out with the other, until his cock feels raw and it hurts to touch.

"Fucking hell," Marcus moans. "C'mere."

Kyle doesn't hesitate, crawling forward and dumping himself onto Marcus' heaving chest. They just breathe against each other for awhile, Kyle dozing off, feeling like he just emptied all of his energy out through his dick. It's a good feeling, especially with Marcus warm beneath him, his big hand spread across Kyle's back. In the moment, Kyle feels like he belongs to Marcus, like Marcus has claimed him forever and he'll always be safe now, under Marcus' protection.

"We've really got to get up," Marcus says. He sounds tired now, too. Kyle tries to respond, but it just comes out as a little grunt. Marcus laughs and rubs his fingers through Kyle's hair.

"Can't believe you got to seventeen without coming," Marcus says. "I'm kinda surprised you didn't pass out or something."

"What do you think I'm doing now?" Kyle says. He tips his head up so he can kiss Marcus' neck. "God, Marcus, why do you smell so good?" he asks, delirious.

"I smell like sweat and engine oil," Marcus says.

"I don't care what it is, it's just really good."

Eventually they get up, giving each other nervous smiles as they head back into the base. Kyle is starving, but he takes a shower before dinner, Marcus in the stall next to his. Kyle wishes they could shower together, but there are others in the men's locker room, and he knows by instinct that no one can find out about Marcus giving him sex lessons. He grins to himself under the spray of the warm water. Sex lessons, he's getting sex lessons from a Terminator. His life has been nothing if not surprising. He glances over at Marcus, who is rinsing shampoo from his hair.

"Maybe you could teach me to drive, too," Kyle says, and Marcus opens one eye to give him a questioning look.

"Whatever you want," Marcus says. "Not like I've got anything better to do."

Kyle turns away, still smiling, though he kind of feels like he's been punched in the gut. Of course Marcus is just doing this out of boredom. Duh. Obviously. Did Kyle expect Marcus to fall in love with him just because of some sex lessons? And kissing? Very tender kissing, actually? Also that comment about Kyle being nice-looking? Well, Marcus can certainly think him nice-looking and not be in love with him. And that's just fine. Kyle turns the water off and tries to stop feeling like he's going to throw up. Marcus has nothing better to do, and Kyle should be honored that Marcus even speaks to him, let alone shows him how to take care of between-the-legs business. And holds him, and rubs his back, and lets Kyle lick his neck. It's not like Kyle could possibly expect anything more.

When he hits his bunk that night, Kyle pulls his pillow into his arms and presses his face against it, pretending it's Marcus. This used to make him feel less lonely at night, Marcus actually sleeping in the bed above Kyle's, the mattress creaking under his weight. Now it just makes Kyle feel more lonely, somehow.

*

Nobody objects to Kyle's driving lessons, mostly because nobody seems to actually be in charge or particularly concerned about what Kyle does on the base. Marcus is another story; he is monitored, feared and questioned, but he's also good at sneaking around, so he procures a Jeep and sits in the passenger seat while Kyle drives it out to the end of the runway and back, both of them dripping sweat as the hot desert sun beats down on them through the open roof of the Jeep. Marcus is calm and encouraging, his hand sometimes slipping over Kyle's to guide the wheel. He teaches Kyle how to brake and steer and accelerate, and laughs when Kyle toys with the Jeep's broken radio.

"That other car we had," Kyle says. "It -- there was that noise."

"Music?" Marcus says, raising his eyebrows.

"Yeah." Kyle knows music. His dad used to sing to him. His dad's singing didn't sound like the noise that had blasted from the car they took from Griffith Observatory, though.

"Somebody in this shit hole has got to have some music I could play for you," Marcus says. He seems angry that Kyle doesn't know about music. Kyle just sits staring at him, wondering if they'll have another sex lesson after they return the Jeep, in the cool shadows of the hangar. Star is off with that old lady who dotes on her, and Kyle doesn't have any other plans for the afternoon. He thinks maybe now he could graduate to touching Marcus' dick and not just his own. He squirms, thinking about it, how it would fill his hand.

"Wait," Kyle says, frowning. He's staring at Marcus' lap. "Is your -- um. Is your dick made out of metal?" he asks in a rush. "On the inside, I mean?"

He looks up at Marcus beseechingly. They've watched each other jerk off, so questions like this must be allowed. Marcus raises his eyebrows.

"The only thing in me that's made out of metal is my bones," Marcus says. "Dicks don't have bones in them, Kyle." He snorts and rubs his hand over his eyes, groaning a little.

"Oh. Right." Kyle feels like he should have known this. "Then how -- what makes them get hard?"

"Why are we talking about dicks getting hard? Again?"

"Sorry," Kyle says, looking away. "I just thought -- because -- never mind."

"Hey, it's alright." Marcus ticks Kyle's chin. "I mean, I know why -- 'cause you're seventeen. It was all I thought about at your age, too."

"So what do you think about now?"

Marcus shrugs. "Mostly what the fuck is going to happen to me. I've heard talk -- the machines have been quiet since Skynet Central blew. Real quiet. Like, dead. There's a theory that there was some kind of mother brain there and that the machines might be lost without it."

"No way." Kyle frowns. "They wouldn't make themselves that vulnerable. There's no way they'd set up so that losing one base would shut them all down."

"Well, maybe it just shut the local ones down. Anyway, I'm thinking about leaving, is what I'm thinking about."

Kyle's mouth hangs open, and Marcus smirks at his betrayed expression, reaching over to squeeze his shoulder.

"Well, I'd take you with me," he says. "And Star, and Blair."

"Blair?" Kyle thinks of what things would be like on the road with those two. Blair and Marcus would be like the parents. Kyle and Star like the kids. Kyle shakes Marcus' hand from his shoulder.

"What's the matter?" Marcus asks.

"Maybe I want to stay." Kyle turns the Jeep back on and drives toward the hangar. Marcus is staring at him, but Kyle keeps his eyes on the windshield.

"Listen, there have been some factions organizing since Connor died," Marcus says. "Nobody you'd want running this place, believe me."

"Kate will take over after she feels better," Kyle says. Suddenly he can't wait to get away from Marcus. He must have lied about not doing sex things with Blair, and that stuff about only Kyle making his cock work. Of course Marcus wants Blair and not Kyle. To Marcus, Kyle is just a dumb kid.

"Slow down," Marcus barks as they approach the hangar.

"I'm not even going that fast," Kyle says, but he does slow down, his heart pounding.

When they've returned the car they stand inside the empty hanger, drinking water and wiping the sweat from their foreheads. Kyle feels a little dizzy, his vision blurry in the shade after being assaulted by unfiltered sunlight for almost an hour. When he takes an unsteady step Marcus catches him.

"Have you eaten anything today?" Marcus asks. He's holding Kyle's skinny elbows, staring down at him with concern.

"You don't have to remind me to eat." Kyle jerks away from Marcus, glowering. "I'm not Star -- I'm not a baby."

"Yeah, but you're a damn teenager, alright," Marcus says, frowning. "Fuckin' moody."

"Yeah, we'll you're --" Kyle can't think of an insult, his face turning red with frustration as Marcus stares. "You're a stupid -- machine, so I don't care what you think!"

"You wanna call me that again?" Marcus says in a growl, grabbing Kyle and pinning him against the wall of the hangar. Kyle lets out a yelp of surprise and boggles up at Marcus, who is suddenly furious, his breath coming in angry pants. His hands are like vices around Kyle's sides, and Kyle thinks about how easily Marcus' metal bones could crush him. This really shouldn't make his cock hard, but it does.

"Marcus!" he cries. "Don't -- don't --"

"Don't what? You think of me like that? You think I'm one of those fucking robots?" Marcus' angry expression fades into hurt, and Kyle whimpers, pulling Marcus closer with shaking hands.

"No, no," Kyle whispers. "I don't think of you that way at all."

"Bullshit." Marcus holds Kyle's face in one big hand. "You think my dick is made of metal? I don't know what the fuck I'm made out of, but I know most of it ain't real, you don't have to remind me." He presses himself against Kyle, framing Kyle's head against the wall with his elbows. Kyle lets out a deep breath as Marcus closes around him like a dark storm cloud, powerful relief from a merciless summer day.

"You're real," Kyle says. He reaches up to touch Marcus' neck, where his pulse is pumping hard. "I know you're real."

"Yeah? You'd better." Marcus pushes his face against Kyle's. He's so warm, all stubble and hot breath. "'Cause you're the only thing that makes me feel real anymore."

"Marcus," Kyle says, and then they're kissing, hard, Kyle struggling to do it right as he ruts against Marcus, wanting to scramble up between Marcus' body and the wall, to be lifted off the ground. Marcus seems to sense this, and he picks Kyle up with a grunt, guiding Kyle's legs to wrap around his waist.

"Yeah," Kyle breathes, arching and rubbing himself on Marcus' stomach. "Yeah, Marcus, oh."

"Thought about you last night," Marcus says. He licks Kyle's neck, holding him by his ass, kneading it, the strength of his hands making Kyle's cock achingly full. "The way you looked when you came."

"Came?"

"When your dick went off, Kyle." Marcus snorts at the expression. "When you came."

"Came, oh," Kyle says, drowsy with arousal, his arms tight around Marcus' neck. "I thought about you last night, too," he says, panting. "I wanted -- I wished you were in my bed."

Marcus moans, bracing Kyle against the wall and holding his ass in one hand while he uses the other to tear Kyle's pants open.

"Kid, if I had you in my bed at night and had a little privacy." Marcus looks up at Kyle, his eyes so dark and hungry that Kyle shudders. "The things I'd do to you. Fuck, and you'd love it, wouldn't you? Look at you." Marcus reaches into Kyle's underwear and tugs out his cock, making Kyle shout and buck in his grip. "So fucking eager," Marcus says, his mouth close to Kyle's ear, his voice a low rumble.

"Yeah, yeah," Kyle moans, staring down at Marcus' hand as he strokes Kyle's cock. Kyle is already close to losing control, and he can't stop squirming desperately.

"Be still," Marcus says. "Here's your anatomy lesson, alright? You want to know how cocks get hard?"

"Uh-huh," Kyle moans, beginning to tremble as his release builds. Marcus kisses Kyle's cheek, sweet and soft, and they both look down at Kyle's cock.

"It's blood, it fills up with blood when you feel good," Marcus says, stroking Kyle slowly, like he knows Kyle is about to go off. "See how red it gets? And this --" Marcus swipes his thumb through the wet slit and Kyle moans, throwing his head back. "This is your precome, see." Marcus brings his thumb up to Kyle's lips. "You can taste it if you want," he whispers. Kyle hesitates, eying the slickness warily. Marcus brings it to his own lips and licks it off, moaning. "So good, mmm, God, you taste good."

Kyle comes all over Marcus' shirt at that, groaning and pumping his hips, holding on to Marcus' arms, though he doesn't really need to, Marcus has him, holding him tight, kissing Kyle as he empties himself. Kyle's moans trickle off into soft little whimpers, and Marcus licks them from his lips, opening his eyes to stare into Kyle's.

"Oh, oh," Kyle whispers, feeling as if he's been subsumed into Marcus' body, which is nice, comforting. "I -- I want you, all the time, I keep thinking --"

"Shhh," Marcus says. He kisses Kyle's jaw, caressing it with little flicks of his tongue. "You don't have to explain."

"You -- you think about me too, though, don't you?" Kyle is always saying the wrong thing. Marcus sighs and sets him down, Kyle's legs barely working when his feet find the ground.

"I told you I did," Marcus says. He grins and presses his face to Kyle's. "Hey," he says. "Don't worry. You're mine. I'm yours. Thought you knew."

Kyle whimpers again, louder now, and he kisses Marcus, still leaning against the wall, not sure he'd be able to support his own weight. Marcus laughs into Kyle's mouth, as if he's pleased with Kyle's astonishment. Kyle still can't believe it's true, that he belongs to someone at last, that he belongs anywhere at all. He pulls back to chew his tongue and smile, trying not to cry.

"Hey!"

Marcus jerks around at the sound of the shout from the other side of the hangar, and Kyle hurries to refasten his pants. Marcus is still hard, and Kyle steps in front of him to hide it as the man called Barnes walks toward them, his face set in an accusing scowl. He's alone and unarmed, but Kyle is still afraid of him. He feels Marcus go tense behind him.

"What the hell are you doing to that kid, freak?" Barnes shouts, coming to a stop ten feet away from them.

"He's not doing anything!" Kyle's blush explodes across his cheeks. "He was teaching me how to drive."

"Yeah? Didn't look like any driving lesson I've ever seen."

Marcus is silent behind Kyle, as if he's waiting for something. Kyle can feel an anger emanating from him that is definitely and dangerously human, though there is something hard and metallic buzzing underneath it.

"Oh, well, I haven't eaten, so I kind of fainted," Kyle says, wishing Marcus would jump in. "He was just helping me, you know, drink some water, get on my feet --"

"You sure you're okay, kid?" Barnes looks at Kyle like he's ready to hear the truth now, frowning.

"He's fine," Marcus says. He steps around Kyle and walks toward Barnes. They glare at each other, eyes locked. On Marcus' third step, Barnes shrinks backward. Marcus stops there and grins.

"Not so tough when I'm not fucking chained up, huh?" Marcus says. Barnes turns to spit on the ground.

"Kate says Connor trusted you." He sniffs in disbelief. "He must have lost his mind. Maybe that's how he got killed. Stupid enough to think he could trust a fucking machine."

Marcus takes two more steps toward Barnes, quicker now, and Barnes scoffs, walking backward. He looks at Kyle.

"You're falling in with the wrong crowd, kid," he says before turning to go. Marcus stands there watching him, motionless, pointed like a guard dog. When the sound of his footsteps is gone, Kyle lets out a sigh of relief and walks forward to wind his arms around Marcus' waist. Marcus is still stiff with tension, but he reaches back to hold Kyle's hip.

"We need to get out of here," Marcus says.

"But where would we go?" Kyle asks, his voice muffled in Marcus' shirt.

"Anywhere," Marcus says. He turns and takes Kyle's face in his hands, tipping it up to his. "This is going to sound dumb, but -- the machines plugged me into their computer at their base. It was like having ten thousand new brains dumped into mine, all of this information about how they work, how their programs function, what their weaknesses are." Marcus kisses Kyle's forehead. "So," he says. "I think that might make me the strongest one around."

"I'll tell you what it makes you," Kyle says. "Our new leader."

"Fuck no."

"Why not?"

"I'm not interested in leading. If a few people want to come with me when I leave, fine. But I'm not -- I'm not Connor."

"No one would want you to be Connor. But Marcus -- look around you! There are resources here, weapons, someone just needs to --"

"It's not that easy!" Marcus drops Kyle's face and rubs his hands over his own. "These people are never going to trust me. You heard that guy. When Connor had me chained up that motherfucker stood there and used my chest for target practice. You think I care about convincing him to follow me? Fuck no." Marcus grabs Kyle's shoulders. "All I care about is you," he says.

"Marcus." Kyle sighs and hugs him, confused. He does feel like leaving, but he knows what they'll find out there: new danger, impossibly limited resources, scrawny coyotes like the ones whose loose skin would make Kyle vomit as he cleaned the meat from their ribs.

"I don't know how much longer I can stay here," Marcus says. "They want to hurt me, Kyle. They blame me for Connor's death."

"But -- why -- you tried to save him, you pulled him out of Skynet before it exploded."

"Well, trying isn't good enough for these guys. Just start hoarding whatever supplies you can get your hands on. We're leaving soon."

Kyle can't sleep that night, his heart pumping too fast as he thinks about leaving. He likes living in the base, spending lazy afternoons in the hangar with Marcus and Star, eating three meals a day, showering on a regular basis. He finally gives up on trying to get any rest and climbs up onto Marcus' bunk. Marcus is lying on his back, wide awake, and he frowns at Kyle when Kyle straddles his waist. There are others in the bunks around theirs, but everything is quiet except for a few snores.

"I had an idea," Kyle says, leaning down to whisper in Marcus' ear.

"Kyle -- don't -- if they see me like this --"

"Shh, it's okay. Listen. How about: you take over the base, okay? And then if people don't like it they can leave."

Marcus snorts. "It's not that simple," he whispers.

"Why not? You're stronger than everyone here."

"Yeah, well -- I'm not interested in being a dictator."

Kyle sighs and slides off of Marcus to lie against his side, his leg thrown across Marcus' waist. Marcus looks over at him with annoyance, but Kyle shrugs and closes his eyes, listening to the sound of Marcus' heartbeat.

"Kyle," Marcus says. "You can't sleep up here."

"Why not?"

"Because you're -- because you can't."

"That's not a real reason." Kyle clings, rubbing his erection against Marcus' hip. Marcus groans.

"Get off," he says. "I mean it."

"But Marcus --"

"Hey!" Marcus lifts Kyle's chin from his chest. "You want me to be a big, fearless leader? Why don't you start by doing what I say? Get back in your own bed before someone sees you up here."

Kyle moans with annoyance and climbs over Marcus, scowling at him before dropping back to the floor. He sinks into his own bed and sighs. At this point he might be convinced to leave just for the chance to sleep with Marcus without anyone seeing and making Marcus feel bad about it. Kyle humps his mattress a few times, but his heart's not in it. He closes his eyes and thinks about the way Marcus' face and voice changed when he gave Kyle an order. Maybe it's because he's been on his own for so long, but Kyle likes it when Marcus takes charge the way he did when they first met, when he ripped the gun out of Kyle's hand and later showed him how to keep that from happening again. He's a natural leader, and an invaluable tool for the resistance. Kyle stifles nervous laughter as he tries to imagine the two of them rising to power together: Marcus Wright, savior of humanity, and Kyle Reese, his teenage bride. Finally he can't help it and laughs into his sheets.

"Hey," Marcus whispers, sticking his head over the side of his bunk to look down at Kyle. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," Kyle says, rolling over to grin at him. "I was just -- thinking about something funny."

"Oh. Thought I heard you crying."

Marcus looks so vulnerable for a moment that Kyle's eyes do water a little, but then Marcus is gone, back to the top bunk to stand guard. Kyle is finally able to sleep with this in mind: Marcus perched above him like a guard in a tower, keeping an eye out for enemies and ready to comfort Kyle if he cries.

*

Kate has her baby the following afternoon, and there's a lot of muttering and gossip about her condition. Most of it goes on over Kyle's head or behind closed doors, but he senses that there is a shake-up coming and soon. He stays close to Marcus and Star, and they get their updates from Blair.

"She's asking to see Kyle," Blair says after one of her information gathering missions, and Kyle looks up at her with a frown, thinking he must have heard wrong. Kyle and Marcus are seated in their usual spot in the hangar, Star stretched out beside them and scribbling drawings in a notebook that Marcus found and stole for her.

"Me?" Kyle says. He looks at Marcus, wanting him to refuse this request on Kyle's behalf. Kyle was perfectly happy sitting beside Marcus and learning about the rules of basketball, which Marcus thinks they could actually play if he could just find a ball that bounced and rigged up a hoop somewhere.

"Yes, you," Blair says. "Don't ask me why. She wouldn't say."

Kyle's heart is pounding as he walks down the dark corridor that leads to the Connor residence. Marcus and Star come as far as Blair will allow them, but when they reach the door that leads into the quarters Kate used to share with her husband, Blair opens it only for Kyle. He casts a nervous look back at Marcus, who doesn't look like he wholly approves of this situation.

"Will you two chill out?" Blair says. She seems annoyed. This pleases Kyle. "Just go," she says. "Kate isn't going to terminate you."

"Hilarious," Marcus says. Blair grins. Kyle lets out a deep breath and walks inside. The door closes behind him, and he walks slowly through the dark, cluttered quarters. He can hear a baby's irritable cries through an open door in the back, and he walks toward the sound.

"Kyle?" Kate calls. “Is that you?”

Kyle comes to the doorway and peers inside nervously. The room smells suspicious, the sort of new-life smell that is somehow akin to death, which Kyle has had more experience with. Kate is in the middle of a large bed with a modest wooden frame. She's wearing her usual clothes, and Kyle is relieved not to find her in some sort of frilly nightgown, which was his fear. Her legs are under the blankets and she's holding a squalling little bundled-up baby.

"Come in, sweetheart," Kate says. Kyle is surprised by the endearment. He's never even really spoken to Kate. He walks in, still cautious. The room is lit only by two mismatched lamps that flank the bed, resting on crates that serve as makeshift bedside tables. There is a pair of reading glasses on one of the crates, and Kyle wonders if they belong to Kate, or if they were Connor's. He stands beside the bed, feeling awkward and hooking his thumbs in the front pockets of his pants.

"Your baby is cute," Kyle says, though she's really just kind of red and squirmy-looking. Kate smiles and gazes down at her daughter.

"Her name is Sarah," Kate says. "After John's mother."

"I'm so sorry about John," Kyle says. He blushes, feeling stupid. "My dad died," he says, hoping this will legitimize his sympathy, but it only makes him feel more ridiculous.

"Then you've got that in common with your granddaughter."

"I'm sorry?"

Kate looks up at Kyle again, her eyes full of tears. She opens her mouth as if she's struggling to say something and can't come up with the right words, then just laughs and shakes her head, the tears spilling down her cheeks.

"I don't know what to do now, Kyle," she says. "I don't know what to tell you, how to move forward. If I don't send you back, what will happen to my daughter?"

"Send me back where?" Kyle wonders if he should run. She seems crazy. How the heck does Blair know that Kate doesn't want to terminate him? He'll scream for Marcus if Kate tries anything.

"Come, sit on the bed," Kate says, scooting closer and sniffling her tears away.

"I don't think –"

"Kyle, please. You're the only family we have left."

"Family?" He's thinking he should definitely run, but poor Kate looks so broken up already.

"I won't be able to explain it the way he would have," Kate says. "And I don't know that he would have explained it to you at all before he sent you. But – just trust me when I say that John came to get you from Skynet Central because you're our family."

"Marcus came to get me," Kyle says. He's still standing, wants to sit on the bed with crazy Kate and her powdery-smelling baby about as much as he wants to dive into a vat of spiders.

"Marcus was allowed to try and retrieve you only because John let him go free," Kate says. "Has Marcus not explained that to you?"

"Well – I guess he did say that, yeah. That Connor helped him come to get me."

Kate looks unsettled for a moment. She frowns and peers down at Sarah. Kyle has never really thought about it before, but Kate looks so young. She could pass for just five or six years older than Kyle.

"I haven't quite worked out the terminator's role," Kate says.

"The terminator?"

"Marcus." Kate closes her eyes as if it pains her to call him by that name. "John wanted to trust it in the end, but we were so harried – and its fixation on you is – troubling."

"Don't call him 'it.'" Kyle's fists curl at his sides. "He's a person. He's a man."

"Your fixation on him is equally troubling," Kate says. Her voice is flat now, humorless. "Or maybe even more so."

"We'll leave if you want us to, but you'd be better off with him here, I think," Kyle says. He hates to volunteer this on Marcus' behalf, but he doesn't like the idea of Kate driving them out of this place and then letting it fall to ruin, or into less capable hands.

"I do not want you to leave," Kate says. She sighs. "Kyle, sit down. I knew I would just scare you with all of this. You look a little pale. See that little tin on the crate there? Open it. There's some candy inside. It was John's favorite."

Kyle sits down, still nervous, though his heart isn't pounding quite so hard now. He reaches for the tin and looks at the little red candies inside it, eying them cautiously.

"Go ahead." Kate laughs. "I'm not going to poison you, Kyle. I mean it when I say that I think of you as my family."

"Why?" Kyle picks up one of the candies and sniffs it, which makes Kate laugh harder. A smile inches at the corner of Kyle's lips, and he pops the candy in his mouth. It's not what he expected, hot and kind of spicy along with the sweetness.

"Let's just say that John was your – uncle."

"No, he wasn't."

"How do you know? Did your parents tell you about their siblings?"

"My dad had brothers, but they were dead before him. And my mom – I don't remember my mom, and my dad didn't talk about her. He wouldn't, I mean. Ever."

"Then how do you know that John wasn't your mother's brother?"

"If that's true then – what was my mother's name?"

"Amanda Reese," Kate says. Kyle chokes a little, almost swallowing the candy. It's only the third time he's heard that sacred name out loud.

"How do you know that?" he asks, the burn of the candy on his tongue making his tears come faster than they should.

"I know you, Kyle," Kate says. Sarah whines out a little cry, and Kate bends down to shush her, kissing her forehead. Kyle stares, wondering if his mother ever kissed him like that, wishing he could remember.

"If I'm your family then you have to trust me about Marcus," Kyle says. "Like you trusted John before."

Kate is perfectly silent and still for a few seconds, then she sobs, quiet and quick.

"I can't believe he's gone," she whispers.

Kyle climbs over to sit beside her. He puts a tentative arm around her while she cries. He does feel like he belongs here, though he's not sure he believes that John Connor was his uncle. Connor was something for Kyle, though, something important. Kyle understood that as soon as he heard Connor's voice on the radio, and when they met in person.

"I can't believe it, either," Kyle says. "I don't know what will happen. But me and Marcus will help you and Sarah. There are some bad people here, Kate."

"I know that," Kate says. She wipes at her eyes. "They were afraid of John. They're not afraid of me."

"They are afraid of Marcus."

Kate looks up into Kyle's eyes. She seems even younger when she cries, soft and helpless, but older, too, long-suffering.

"This is the jacket John gave you, isn't it?" Kate touches the sleeve, and Kyle hopes she won't ask to have it back, because the gesture meant a lot to him. "It still smells like him, a little," she says.

"He cared about me," Kyle says. "I could tell. Like Marcus, but different."

"Marcus cares about you?" Kate looks genuinely curious, and a little disturbed.

"Yeah, I mean." Kyle shrugs. "He walked into Skynet for me." Kyle hopes Kate can't see his blush in the dull, greenish light of the room. She studies his face for awhile.

"Blair told me he takes care of you," Kate says. "That he protects you." She shakes her head. "It doesn't make any sense. They could have programmed him to kill you on sight. It all would have ended then."

"Marcus wouldn't have done that," Kyle says. "Even if they told him to. He's good, Kate. They messed up when they made him. They left all the good parts."

"Oh." Kate covers her mouth and stares at Kyle like he's just said something shocking. He takes his arm from her shoulders and sits back.

"You were so lonely," Kate says. More tears come, and Kyle wishes he had a handkerchief he could offer her, or some comforting words, but all he can do is stare and try to look like he feels sorry for her, because he does.

"Yeah," Kyle says, squirming.

"And then he came along. Oh, God. Better than a picture."

Kate cries harder, clutching Sarah to her, and Kyle isn't sure what he's supposed to do. He scratches at his head, tugs at the collar of his shirt.

"We'll help you, though," he says. "I mean it. We can reorganize, take down the machines with Marcus' inside knowledge."

"Kyle, there's nothing –" Kate shakes her head. "It's over."

"What?"

"The war."

Kyle stares at her, wondering why he feels so deeply upset by this information. Probably because he doesn't believe that it's true. It's just another sign that poor Kate has lost her mind.

"How?" Kyle asks.

"We don't know." Kate curses and wipes the tears from her eyes. "But ever since Marcus left that base, we've been getting reports of completely nullified machine activity from all over the world. It's like –" She scoffs, shutting her eyes. "It's like he broke their hearts or something. They've just – stopped."

*

That evening, Kyle sits on the roof of the southern sentry tower, the one that overlooks the river. It was manned with snipers when Kyle arrived at the base, but now it's empty, unguarded. Marcus sits behind him, holding Kyle against his chest, Marcus' steady heartbeat thumping under Kyle's ear. Kyle rubs his fingers lazily over Marcus' t-shirt, thinking. He finds the bump of Marcus' left nipple and toys with it until it's hard. Kyle grins. Nothing makes any sense at all, really. The machines engineered a terminator with responsive nipple technology. Marcus squirms and grunts.

"You ready to tell me what she said yet?" he asks. He runs his fingers through Kyle's hair, messing it up and then smoothing it down again. Kyle looks up and stares into Marcus' eyes for awhile, a twisty feeling building in his stomach. He smiles. This is the love lesson, maybe, the sun going down and the war ending in an anticlimax. All Marcus had to do to teach Kyle how to be in love was look concerned and hold him close, let Kyle listen to his heartbeat.

"She said you saved us," Kyle says. "I didn't believe her at first, but then she put the baby down for a nap and showed me the communications from other bases. The machines started shutting down around the time you unplugged from their computer at Skynet Central."

"Huh? What machines?"

"All of them, except for the ones in the base, the ones that had already gotten the order to kill Connor. And that was just a few of them, really. After Connor died, the machines that were still operational, any of them that didn't blow up at the base, they stopped, too. Like they thought they'd completed their mission? I don't know. Kate doesn't know. All we know is that the world went quiet when you left that base."

Marcus stares at Kyle, processing this. He scoffs and shakes his head.

"Bullshit," he says. "They're just cooking up their next move. Lying in wait."

"Maybe," Kyle says. "But I feel like – maybe not. I feel it, you know, here." He takes Marcus' hand and places it over his chest, over his heartbeat. Marcus sighs and tugs Kyle closer, tucking him against his chest again, his hand still pressed over Kyle's heart.

"I knew something was different as soon as we got back here," Kyle says. "I just thought it was 'cause I was glad to have you with me again. But I felt safe, you know?"

"You are safe," Marcus says. He squeezes Kyle and kisses his forehead. Marcus isn't crying, but somehow Kyle knows now that he can, that it's possible. It's something in the desperate way Marcus is kissing him again and again, as if he's afraid of something.

"Kate said we could stay," Kyle says, whispering. He tilts his head back against Marcus' shoulder and peers up at him, grins. "She said you could take over and throw whoever you want out."

"Great," Marcus says. He makes a face, then kisses Kyle lips, licking them apart and breathing hard between them. "Is that what you want me to do?"

"Yep."

"Then I guess I'm fucked, aren't I?"

"Not fucked." Kyle grins and settles more comfortably into Marcus' arms, enjoying the feeling of being cradled and kissed, treasured. "It'll be good, you'll see. And hey, listen." Kyle leans up a little bit to whisper in Marcus' ear, as if someone will hear, though the whole world feels like it's backed off and quieted down to give them this moment. "We can find a room somewhere and drag a couple of mattresses there. A room with a door. You know?"

Marcus snorts and then shakes with laughter, kissing Kyle, who grins against his lips. Kyle touches Marcus' jaw and deepens the kiss, moaning into it. He feels like he could float away, evaporate into a mist of relief, but for the first time in his life he wants to stay anchored here in this world, just as it is.

"You're gonna continue my lessons, right?" Kyle says, rubbing his nose against Marcus' cheeks, his jaw, his neck.

"Sure," Marcus says. "Next up is music. I'll make somebody sing for you if we can't find any, how's that? Since I'm going to elect myself king and all."

"And what comes after music?" Kyle asks, choosing to ignore this remark for now. Marcus will see. He'll be a good leader. Kyle and Kate will help. Maybe Blair, too, though Kyle would prefer if her role was more secretarial in nature.

"After music, well. Blow jobs, I'd think."

"What is that?" Kyle asks, his eyes shooting open. Marcus raises an eyebrow and grins.

"I'm really going to miss these conversations when you run out of questions like that,” he says.

"Tell me!" Kyle says, smiling and sensing that this lesson will be a good one. Marcus snorts. He reaches up to press his fingers against Kyle's bottom lip, then pushes two of them into Kyle's mouth when Kyle's lips open for them.

"Suck," Marcus says. He swallows heavily, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Like it's a lollipop."

"A what?" Kyle asks, the words muffled by Marcus' fingers, and Marcus laughs so hard that a flock of tiny birds in a tree near the corner of the tower takes off, shrieking in protest. Kyle watches them go before turning back to his lesson, their frantic little bodies silhouetted against the sunset. They're the first birds he's seen in awhile.


End file.
